


Of Sand and Grit

by RachelRudeRowdy



Category: The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time
Genre: F/F, F/M, Ganondorf - Freeform, Nabooru - Freeform, Nabooru-centered fic, Ocarina of Time, The True Gerudo Queen, War, gerudo, the legend of zelda - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2020-10-06 16:00:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20509664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RachelRudeRowdy/pseuds/RachelRudeRowdy
Summary: The journey of Nabooru from The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time; what took her from being Ganondorf's second in command to her ultimate betrayal, her capture, and her rise as the Sage of Spirit. This "thief of virtue" learns that the true way to virtue is seizing control of your own fate instead of following a plan given to you and hoping for the best. This one starts about 7 years prior to the beginning of Ocarina of Time and takes us through the end of the game.Nabooru is a big gay so no NabsGan here.Plus some other cameos from your (my) favorite Zelda characters.





	1. Errand Girl

Post-Interloper War, the newly founded Kingdom of Hyrule was teeming with cleanup and reconstruction projects meant to restore the area to its once habitable state. The war demolished nearly every building, burned every crop, and diminished the population greatly. These projects seemed to keep people occupied through their newfound poverty and grief, and finished shelters and hospitals always eased their burdens. Everyone found a place to help around, as there was always help needed. Everyone, that is, with the exception of those who didn’t need help.  


“What, what is it?” a husky and cantankerous man complained as he swung open his front door. A young woman stood on his doorstep, cloaked to shield herself from the rain, and clutched a tightly wrapped bundle to her chest.  


“Please, please help us,” she begged as she rocked the bundle back and forth. “A rupee, a meal, anything. He’ll go hungry…”  


The man scowled. “Away with you, lowlife!” He slammed the door shut just as the woman stopped it with her foot.  


“Please, I see you have a very extravagant home and can more than afford to help.”  


“No! Go back to the streets!” He spit down at her trespassing foot and went to close the door for a second time, but it was stopped again, this time by the blade of a scimitar. The beggar kicked the door open, causing the baron to fall on his back and clutch his pocketbook out of fear. She walked in and loomed over him, holding a scimitar in each hand and dropping the bundle of blankets on the floor, which unrolled to reveal itself as a stone wrapped in rags.  


“I gave you more than your fair share of chances,” she snarled.  


“I’m sorry! Here, take my money!” he cried, holding out his velvet pocketbook to her.  


She snatched it from him and stuffed it in the bag slung around her shoulders. “How very pathetic, to only give a coin when your life is in danger.” The woman dropped the cloak that hid her body and face, revealing unusually tan skin, a long, pointed nose, and hair bright as fire held in a ponytail that flowed all the way down to her hips.  


“Gerudo! Thief!” he called before she kicked him over the head, knocking him out cold. Nabooru rolled her eyes and searched for anything and everything valuable, and stuffed as much of it as she could fit into her bag. This man deserved none of it, she thought, and on her way out decided to leave the door wide open, just in case someone wanted to pick up what she had to leave behind.

Nabooru shook the water off of her hands onto the floor as she hung her cloak on a rickety wooden chair. Half a dozen questionable-looking people sat at other uneven tables, most a little too intoxicated to function properly. Her eyes adjusted to the dim light. She had grown accustomed enough to this hidden place beneath an abandoned shop that she barely noticed the smell of rotting wood anymore. A young man behind a shop-like counter perked up at the sight of her and smiled as she walked toward him with her bag slung around her shoulders.  


“Another successful outing, Nabooru?” he asked as she dumped the contents of the bag on the counter. Despite her trying to hide her identity, being the second-in-command to the entire Gerudo race earned her a reputation impossible to dodge. When her name was spoken, rooms went quiet, grown men watched their backs, and any Sheikah around knew to flee from any rumor of the Gerudo agent. But here, she was a regular, this dirty hole the only reliable place to procure her supplies outside of the desert.  


“Yeah, the man up in that house nicer than he deserves. You might have some more people down here with the rest of his stuff,” she answered, failing to hide a smirk.  


“Always a thief of virtue, aren’t you?” he teased with glimmering and mischievous eyes. Nabooru rolled her own.  


“I only do it because I have to, Aidric. There’s something going around and my girls need medicine.”  


Aidric began sorting the various pieces of gold and jewels that she had spilled out in front of him. “How much do you need?”  


“Fill the bag.”  


“That bad, huh?” he asked, sympathetically tilting his head. “Are you sick, too?”  


“I’m fine,” Nabooru answered. Of course she was fine, as she was rarely around anyone else back home. Being Ganondorf’s second-in-command, she was given the best accommodations, single housing, just outside of the king’s palace, where she didn’t have to interact with anyone but His Highness unless she absolutely had to. Not that she didn’t care about the others. In fact, it was her plan to come to the city for the medicine, not Ganondorf’s. It usually is her plan to get the supplies they lacked from living in the desert, as her king seemed too preoccupied with plans unknown even to her. It was Nabooru’s official job to thieve or spy for the Gerudo king, and her unofficial job to look after the women of the desert.  


How she wished to just lie in the hot, grainy sand and sleep.  


“Is it going to quit raining anytime soon? It feels like the water is getting in my lungs.”  


“I don’t think so,” Aidric said as he zipped up the bag full of medicine vials. “Will you stay the night, then? To wait out the rain?”  


“I’ll have to tough it out. My girls are sick, and you know His Highness won’t do anything about it.”  


“He won’t be happy that you’ve gone out on your own.”  


Nabooru sighed, fully aware of what did and didn’t make Ganondorf happy. “He’s worried about the aftermath of the war, is all; preparing for retaliation from the Sheikah. I’m just picking up the extra work. It’ll be fine.”  


Aidric nodded. “Just stay safe, Nabooru. If you or your people need anything else, you know where to find me.”  


Nabooru smiled, and, a sudden feeling of dread in her chest, began the trek back to Gerudo Desert.

As soon as Nabooru was back on familiar dry sand, the morning sun beginning to rise, she removed her sandals from her feet and slid off the saddle to walk alongside her horse. The Gerudo had evolved rough, calloused feet living in the desert for so long, and the sand no longer charred their skin. The horses, however, needed special shoes, for the metal with which they are usually made became too hot too quickly for the animals. Her grey horse nudged her, and Nabooru broke an apple in two and fed him one of the halves. He whinnied happily and nudged her again.  


“This half is mine,” she said, taking a bite. “Eat sand.” When the Gerudo fortress came into sight, she released his reins and sent him off to return to the stables. The guards made way for their commander and closed together back behind her, guarding their land, as Nabooru passed through to the central village.  


It was quaint but busy, the Gerudo living area. The amount of work overwhelmed the small population of all women, but it wasn’t too bad, and most were content with life in the desert. Fresh water was siphoned from the Zora River below the canyon, and animals were domesticated for meat and dairy. Still, many things had to be traded with the Hylians, Zoras, and Gorons such as produce, fish, and steel.  


What could the Gerudo trade in return? With a sea of sand and the magic to create and manipulate fire and ice, the Gerudo were able to make the most beautiful and sturdy glass in all of Hyrule. It was an art form, for sure, and the Hylians and Zoras went crazy for it. Elaborate designs, most unique unless otherwise specified by custom orders, decorated castles and houses everywhere. They were in high demand before the war started. Then, glass became useless, and everyone pushed for Goron steel.  


Getting steel from the Gorons was tricky business. Of course, such strong and proud creatures had no interest in the frailty of glass, so the Hylians had to act as a middleman for the product. By the time it had reached the greedy Hylian merchants, the steel was worth its weight in gold, or so the merchants insisted. No doubt they walked away with an unfair profit, but Gerudo glass was almost as valuable, sometimes even more so if a buyer was willing to pay.  


Since the war, however, the Gerudo were forced to find ways to sustain themselves in the barrenness that was the Gerudo Desert. Thus, Nabooru went to stealing from those who could spare a rupee, selling wares to the newly formed black market, and pushing people into helping the reconstruction of a war-torn kingdom. The sooner they got their lives back together, the sooner glass would be in high demand once again, and Nabooru would only have to thieve for Ganondorf.  


She shivered in the blistering heat. Ganondorf. Everyone revered him as a great king, but being the one closest to him on a daily basis, Nabooru sensed otherwise. She didn’t understand why, when he as well as abandoned them when the war started, the girls admired him and were so willing to serve him. Was it truly respect? Or fear? Or was it something else?  


Daddy issues? she thought, and then laughed. They were too evolved to deal with such petty problems. Men were seen as lazy, useless, and self-absorbed among the Gerudo, with the exception, of course, of the almighty Ganondorf.  


Regardless, Nabooru knew she served out of fear and suspicion. The king requested her assistance with spy work and the like, but something in his voice hinted that the request would turn more into a demand if she refused. The suspicion arose from his constant absence and lack of confidence even in his own spy. She had no idea why she was getting information from the king of the Zoras and the patriarch of the Gorons, and when she reported back to her own king, he would only give a contemplative “hmph” and walk away.  


Lost in thought, Nabooru hadn’t realized that she had reached the medicenter until a nurse greeted her.  


“Good morning, Lady Nabooru.”  


Nabooru smiled and walked in, finding a woman in a lab coat dripping a vaccine into a syringe. She removed her bag from her shoulders and placed it on the counter, alerting the doctor to her presence, and unzipped it.  


“I heard you needed some supplies, Raewyn.” The doctor, Raewyn, carefully placed the vile and syringe down and came over to look in the bag.  


“Nabooru, you’re incredible!” she exclaimed, holding a dosage of the medicine like it was an ancient artifact. “As much as I love you for this, are you sure that it’s clean?"  


“Have I ever disappointed you before?” Nabooru asked with a raised eyebrow.  


“Right, of course not. Thank you so much. You’re fantastic.” With that, Nabooru left Raewyn to get to distributing the remedy to the sick girls in the village, lingering for just a moment, hoping that Raewyn would need her for something else, to send her for more supplies for the clinic. But, having satisfied the doctor, Nabooru left her to her work.  


Finally back home, Nabooru hung her scimitars on her weapon rack and fell back on her bed, exhausted from not having slept since night before last. At that moment, one of her attendants knocked on the door and entered.  


“Lady Nabooru, Lord Ganondorf has summoned you,” she tried, hesitant to wake the sleeping thief.  


Nabooru rolled on her stomach and spoke into the pillow. “Tell him I’m sleeping.”  


“I don’t think that’ll work, Lady.”  


“Tell him I’m dead.”  


The girl sighed. “Either way, you’re needed.”  


Nabooru grunted into the pillow and rolled onto the floor, then pulled herself into standing position. “This had better be quick,” she said to no one in particular, and left for Ganondorf’s palace.

“What is it?” Nabooru asked, more than a little annoyed, as she sulked through the extravagant palace made of sandstone, glass, and jewels to Ganondorf’s chambers. She found him standing at a large stone desk, eyebrows furrowed in concern at an array of papers with lines drawn connecting them. He looked up from the desk and moved in front of it, shielding the information from Nabooru’s wandering eyes.  


“Not a very proper way to carry yourself in front of your king, is it, Nabooru?” He stood tall and proud before her, chest puffed out and clad in dark armor as if he were still fighting in the war, or intimidating someone out of it.  


“I’m tired. I was sleeping. I want to go back to sleep,” she replied monotonously. She was able to speak heedlessly to her king, for as long as she did his dirty work, she was untouchable. Only Nabooru passed his test for a second-in-command, and at such a young age, too. She knew too much for him to get rid of, and to train a new Nabooru would take far too much time and work. But this was only as long as she did as she was told.  


“Where were you last night?” he asked with crossed arms.  


“The girls are sick. I went to go get medicine from the city.”  


“Did you thieve?”  


“Gold. I went to the black market for the medicine.”  


Ganondorf scowled at this, disapproving of her participation in the black market and of her act of thievery without his consent, and asked for the entire story. Nabooru told everything, yawning at certain points, until the king looked at least somewhat satisfied.  


“This Aidric boy, you can trust him?” he asked once she was finished.  


“Of course not,” she lied. “Everything he gives me is inspected before use.”  


Ganondorf smiled. “That’s my girl. You know, Nabooru,” he began, pacing his room, “thievery is all about trust. Building it. Holding it. Then, at its peak, manipulating it. Seizing it and crushing it until all you want is yours.” While he was pacing, Nabooru took another look at the work on his desk. There were three large colored shapes, green, red, and blue, all connected with something else in the middle. Before she could make sense of it, Ganondorf had turned back to her, and she had to meet his gaze again quickly lest he know she was snooping.  


“Nabooru, do you trust me?”  


“Yes, my lord,” she answered automatically.  


“Nabooru! Do not lie to me. Do you trust me?”  


She thought for a moment, and her eyes flitted down. “No, sir,” she replied hesitantly, truthfully. She looked back up at him. “I don’t trust you.”  


The king smiled again, and moved to re-shield his papers. “You’re a brilliant woman, Nabooru. This is exactly why you’re my number-two. Now, my dear, what do you know of Lord Jabu-Jabu?”  


Nabooru’s golden eyes skimmed left to right through the air quickly as if she were reading hovering text, recalling all of the information she had stolen from her times in Zora’s Domain. She spoke as her eyes darted across the room.  


“Guardian deity to the Zora race, located in Zora’s Fountain within the Domain, close acquaintances with the Princess Ruto.” She paused for a moment. “Really big fish.”  


Her eyes stilled themselves and she gazed back at Ganondorf. “Brilliant and loyal, absolutely. And about appealing to it?”  


“How do you appeal to anything and anyone?” she returned. “Food.”  


He shook his head in fascination. “Nabooru, if you help me follow through with my plans, I could put you in quite a position of power.” She tilted her head in curiosity, but before she could ask, Ganondorf spoke again. “I need you to run a few errands for me.”


	2. The Sheikah Slayer

Nabooru didn’t like being out of her element. Even when she was on dry land in the Zora Fountain, she could feel the humidity around her, and it gave her the impression of being drowned. She suppressed her coughs so as not to blow her cover, and kept her nose uncrinkled from the smell of fish. Closing her eyes, she imagined sand running through her fingers to calm her.  


It had taken her hours to create what she had become; her dark skin was tainted a light blue, she treaded carefully with flippers on her feet, she fashioned long fins trailing from her elbows, and her hair acted as the long tail the Zoras had sprouting from their heads. She was a Zora if ever there was one, and was easily able to stroll through Zora’s Domain without drawing attention. And now, the great Lord Jabu-Jabu floated before her, completely unaware of her true descent.  


“My Lord Jabu-Jabu,” Nabooru said as she bowed and pulled the bottle out from behind her back. It stared back at her, elegant crown upon its head, and blue, fishy eyes awaiting a snack. “I have an offering for you.” The fish opened its mouth for her, and, closing her eyes, Nabooru untwisted the cap and threw the fish-shaped purple lump inside of its mouth.  


“I’m sorry,” she whispered and turned away, knowing that soon people would be coming in to investigate. Mingling with the Zora, Nabooru witnessed what peaceful people they were. They farmed local fish species, swam through their waters, and cared for their families. She was sure that neither they nor their guardian deity deserved to be sabotaged, no matter what they had said or done to Ganondorf. Of course, he had assured her that the effects of the curse were reversible, but she could only trust so much of what he said. Regardless, she had to follow through with his plan, and so she did.  


Lord Jabu-Jabu made three, now. The Carbonatite Cavern became the Dodongo Cavern after Nabooru sealed it off and lured the wretched creatures within, and the Great Deku Tree was plagued with a parasite from within. Each mission made her more miserable than the last, but if she didn’t do them, she would be punished, and Ganondorf would come accomplish all of it himself. While she was there, she could at least, say, plant a few items at the source of the issue, so that if one wanted to rescue the ones she plagued, it wouldn’t be too difficult. It would only take a moderate amount of courage for one to do so.  


Nabooru forced a smile for herself, her logic not completely eradicating her guilt, and walked away before the chaos would ensue.  


And ensue it did. By the time the Zora began frantically searching for the one who had cursed their guardian deity, putting their entire domain on lockdown, Nabooru was swimming down the river and was halfway to the canyon below the desert. Her makeshift fins allowed her to glide through the water, and although she hated it, the current proved much faster than just running on foot. Not to mention how suspicious that would look. At least in the water, she was hidden.  


When she was under the protection of the canyon, she surfaced and walked the rest of the way, removing the flippers on her feet that she kept tripping over. There was a hidden cavern up ahead that only Nabooru and Ganondorf knew about, as he created it for her, that let her climb safely from the bottom of the canyon up to the Gerudo Desert.  


She began to take a step when she noticed something peculiar about the dirt on the ground, and pulled her foot back. The dirt was displaced so that instead of a gravelly trail, there was a circle dug ever so slightly with small rocks surrounding it. A footstep. Nabooru knelt down to examine it more closely. It belonged to a person of smaller stature, a woman, and an agile one to boot. At that thought, she rolled her eyes in anger and stormed up the tunnel into the desert.  


“Halt, Zora!” a sentry at the guarding fortress before the Gerudo village said to Nabooru, stopping her.  


“All who dwell in the sand will be consumed by it,” she replied, opening her eyes wide for her to see. At the secret phrase and the recognition of her voice and golden eyes, the guard stepped aside and allowed Nabooru to pass. She didn’t even stop home to remove her Zora costume before she barged into Ganondorf’s quarters with a scowl, only to find it empty.  


“Where is he?” she asked an attendant out in the hallway.  


“Dining hall, Lady.”  


Indeed he was, and at the sight of her, Ganondorf raised his eyebrows in admiration of her costume, but quickly furrowed them when Nabooru slammed her hands on the table in front of him.  


“What’s the report, Nabooru?” he asked, concerned at her obvious anger.  


“Like you don’t know,” she began, folding her arms. “You’re not as secretive as you think you are. Assigning a spy to me! And you gave her the location of my pathway! That was supposed to be hidden so that it wouldn’t be sabotaged and I could find my way home! Do you know what could happen if she gave me away while I was on the job?”  


Ganondorf sighed and stood up from his seat. “Come, Nabooru. This is not the place.” He led the fuming Gerudo thief back to his quarters, still smiling at her outfit. “You really do look just like a Zora, my pet. Absolutely brilliant.”  


As soon as he closed the door behind them, Nabooru continued her rant. “If this other spy of yours compromises me just one time, I swear to Din I’ll—”  


“Enough, Nabooru! We’ve established that you don’t trust me, and that feeling is just as plainly reciprocated. If you’re going to continue launching these little missions of your own, I need to keep tabs on you.”  


“Is this about me getting the medicine? Your people needed it!”  


“And whatever else you decide our people ‘need,’ I’ll be keeping an eye on.”  


“You’re risking your plans out of paranoia,” she spat back.  


“Am I?” he asked, and Nabooru’s heart stopped. She remembered the items she left at the heart of the curses she laid; things to help a future hero, if they were to ever come along, or even her future self. Did he know?  


“My plan is very delicate,” he continued. “Every last creature involved must be accounted for. That’s why I don’t particularly like it when you go off thieving without my consent. Those curses you laid on the fish and tree, those will slowly wither away at their life for seven years. Unless, of course, they decide to give me what I want. The rocks have seven years of food stashed away before they will ultimately starve, so they have until then to surrender what they have, too. Do you see how it all coincides, Nabooru? Do you see how carefully I’ve thought all of this through?”  


“Yes, sir,” she replied, her anger turning to apprehension.  


“Then you understand, Nabooru,” Ganondorf’s voice became louder and sharper, “why I can’t have my own spies sabotaging my plans!” He took a threatening step toward her, causing her to flinch and step back.  


“This little ‘thief of virtue’ game you’re playing stops right now. You’re making me look soft, and if there’s one thing I’m not, it’s soft.” He snatched her wrist in his grasp, pulled her face up to his, and whispered menacingly, “Am I clear?” Nabooru nodded her head, but at her terrified silence, Ganondorf squeezed her wrist until a crack was heard. “I said, ‘AM I CLEAR?’”  


“Crystal, sir!” she cried after a whimper. He threw her down on the ground and loomed over her.  


“Stand,” he commanded, and she did without hesitation. She looked him in the eye, every emotion gone from her face, and tried to ignore the throbbing in her hand. “You will make this up to me, and you will restore both of our reputations. Ask me how.”  


“How, sir?” she choked.  


“You, my pet, will become the Sheikah Slayer once again.”

______________

Nabooru crouched unseen in an alleyway near the central plaza of the humans’ newfound “Castle Town”, garbed still in her traditional Gerudo outfit. She was to wear no disguise so that all would witness the return of the Sheikah Slayer. Her spy would be watching, eagerly waiting to report Nabooru’s failure.  


Her wrist still throbbed, as she hadn’t gone to Raewyn to have it looked at yet. She was too embarrassed, and reasoned that for what she was about to do, she deserved to have more than her wrist hurt a little bit. When she first entered this alley just a few minutes ago, she bartered with a shabby and malodorous man, giving him a small pouch of rupees in return for the bag he carried and for him to leave, just for a while. Just until the deed was done.  


It was broad daylight, so Nabooru could see the mélange of races that called Castle Town their home. Most were humans and Hylians, born and raised here and determined to rebuild it. Among them, just a handful, were Sheikah who had been displaced by the war. They walked with more mistrust than the others, being so far from home and their families taken from them. And they were right to do so, as those families had been taken by none other than Nabooru.  


It was wartime, and Nabooru was young. Her own people were disappearing in tragedies linked to the Sheikah, who had offered up no excuses for it. Ganondorf had ordered their capture and death and his agent had happily complied. But now, with no attacks in months, it seemed senseless to try to draw them out again, to put the Gerudo race at risk for retaliation.  


So was her punishment, then, for trying rid her village of illness: to extend an invitation for war.  


As much as she still resented the Sheikah, Nabooru didn’t want to kill another one. But disobeying was out of the question, and would result in consequences worse for everyone involved. She had done this before, many times, she reminded herself. It would be just like that.  


Nabooru closed her eyes and breathed, remembering the first man she’d killed. Rather, that she’d been ordered to kill. It was an exercise to desensitize her at a young age to killing so that she wouldn’t be reluctant to follow through when it really counted. He was human, late thirties, and was bound, hands and feet, on his knees before her.  


“What are you waiting for?” he had asked, looking up at her and smirking. “You’re a killer, aren’t you? Kill me. Show your beloved king just how powerful you are over a bound man, child.” Nabooru, however, was too eager to prove herself to Ganondorf to fall for another man’s mind games. She silenced him with a dagger to the throat.  


Every man thereafter, Ganondorf had ordered her to kill in a different way. When she ran out of things to do with a knife, she graduated to blunt objects, rope, her own powers of fire and ice, and eventually, her bare hands. It became like a game to her, and she used that mindset to commit those murders. She became stone, unaffected by the lives she took and ruined so that she could be at her most productive. Just as Ganondorf wanted.  


But he was right about one thing: that Nabooru had begun to think for herself. Her mind was too malleable when he took her in at first. He molded her to think as he thought, to act as he would act, yet still be intelligent enough to survive on her own. Said intelligence was a double-edged sword, as she had started to question his motives and, more recently, act against them.  


She was intelligent enough, however, to realize that if she didn’t act in accordance to his commands, more than just a Sheikah would suffer. Her own girls back home would reap the penalty from their king, and she cared too much for them to allow that to happen. Maybe her brilliance was in Ganondorf’s favor after all.  


When she opened her eyes again, Nabooru saw that first man before her, standing at the entrance of the alleyway. Blood cascaded from his gullet in a steady, endless flow, staining his ragged robes and creating a puddle on the stone ground. He pierced through her with his gaze.  


“Go on, killer. Do it. It’s easy for you, right?” His voice was raspy and sinister, and with each word, more blood poured out of his mouth to add to the puddle below.  


“What do you know? You’re dead,” she spat, though a little uneasy. He started walking forward, creating a trail of blood leading to her.  


“You’ve grown soft these past couple years. I must say, I’m a little embarrassed to have been murdered by someone as pathetic as you.”  


“Shut up,” she choked, closing her eyes and turning her head away.  


The man chuckled. “Tell me, did I serve my purpose? Did I make you a killer?”  


“Go away. You’re not real,” she ordered, but to no avail.  


“What’s the matter, killer?” he asked, now standing not a foot in front of her. “Can’t drink the blood you spilt?” With a cry, Nabooru slashed at the defenseless apparition, causing it to disperse in wisps. She breathed a sigh of relief, a slight case of vertigo overtaking her. Dizziness welcomed nausea, and she found herself barely able to stand.  


The thief decided that she couldn’t wait in the alleyway any longer, the anticipation of murder devouring her whole. She had to do it quick; the longer she waited, the worse it would be. She had to act now.  


Her vision was slightly blurred from her vertigo, but she decided to use this to her advantage so that she wouldn’t have to see the face of the one she killed. Nabooru dashed out into the open and snatched a wandering Sheikah child by the wrist, dragging him along with her. She could almost feel her Ganondorf’s clutches around her throat, forcing her to follow through.  


“Lemme go!” the boy of maybe six or seven cried, unable to keep up with his kidnapper. She blocked out his voice and ran to the center of the marketplace, parting crowds of people to get there. Panic ensued as people saw a child being taken against his will. They tried stopping Nabooru, but she was too agile, and the boy was light enough so that he didn’t slow her down. When she reached the center, she held the boy close and whispered in his ear.  


“I will avenge you. I promise.” She took a deep, trembling breath and added, “I’m sorry.”

________________

The river water below the canyon turned red as it mixed with the blood from Nabooru’s hands and carried it far away where she would never have to see it again. The water was cold, and the shivering induced a fit of vomiting.  


The boy’s cry rang in her ears the entire escape to the canyon. It was high-pitched, desperate, frightened, and it tore Nabooru in half. She didn’t even hear the shouting of the humans and Hylians pursuing her out of Castle Town. At its gates, she summoned a wall of fire that drained all of the magic within her, inhibiting the pursuit.  


After her stomach emptied itself and the dry-heaving ceased, she dunked her head into the river and drank some of the water to soothe the burning in her throat. She held herself there, relaxed her muscles, and let her breath go, but didn’t surface. Her lungs started to spasm, begging for air, but Nabooru wouldn’t satisfy them. I wonder what he felt like, she thought, in that moment when his life slipped away…  


But either out of instinct, reflexes, or both, Nabooru jerked her head out of the water and took an exasperated breath, holding herself up by her hands and knees. When she opened her eyes, the boy was standing across the river, knife wound on the side of his head pouring blood on the dirt and rocks.  


“Was I worth it?” he asked, expressionless.  


“No, this isn’t fair,” she said, backing away. “I said I was sorry.”  


He took a step toward her. “Did I serve my purpose as your victim?”  


“I’m a victim too, you know! I didn’t want to do what I did.” The boy stepped onto the water as if it were solid ground, and his blood turned the river a bright red. Nabooru backed away out of terror.  


“What’s the matter? Can’t bathe in the blood you spilt?”  


“Leave me alone!” she cried out and whizzed a throwing knife into his skull. It struck him in the center of the forehead, causing the blood to flood over the banks of the river and the boy to fall to his knees. Nabooru ran deeper into the canyon as fast as her feet would carry her, too afraid to check behind her.  


She ran all the way to where the entrance to the tunnel was, or rather, where it should have been. There was no hole in the rocky cliff side. Nabooru checked around her, wondering if in her terrified stupor she had passed it or forgotten where it was. The water had returned to normal, at least, but she was still missing her way home.  


Then, a few yards behind her, she noticed something different about the wall. She sidestepped over to make out exactly what it was. Someone had etched the words “Find another way home” into the rock.  


Nabooru was stupefied, but shock quickly turned to boiling anger. “Let me in!” she called to the sky above, hoping Ganondorf would hear, but knowing inside that he wasn’t going to grant her wish. She pounded on the rock with her good hand out of frustration and gazed at the opening above her. It was too high a climb for only one functional hand, and Ganondorf knew it, too. This was another part of her punishment.  


The only other way back to the desert was to go back up to the field and cross the dinky wooden bridge across the canyon, everything out in the open so that her pursuers could find her again. She could either risk it or camp out until nighttime, when the darkness would conceal her.  


But who knew how many more of these apparitions would appear, and if one of them led to her death? She would feel safer at home. Besides, the angry mob had probably given up their search by now.  


Nabooru slung the alley man’s bag around her shoulders again as she walked back the way she came, beginning her hike up to the field. The bag was smaller than the one she usually carried, and she would use its contents later. It didn’t hurt to bring it along.  


She was right about the field being essentially empty of pursuers, but she hadn’t thought that some men would try intruding the Gerudo desert.  


“Let us through! Your wretched kind houses a child murderer!” one man yelled as he tried crossing a bridge, but the pointy end of a spear stopped him in his tracks. Nabooru did not have the patience for this, especially since she was just beginning to recover her magic. She decided to climb a high rock beside her before the men could notice her presence. It was high enough to get the attention of her girls, yet low enough that she could scale it one-handed.  


The small group of guards looked up and saw her, but when she shook her head, they returned their focus to the mob, not wanting to draw attention to their commander. One woman in the back did keep her head up, though, so that she could read the directions Nabooru signed. That guard passed it on to the others, who nodded in understanding, and smirked at both the ingenious plan and having their leader back when they needed her most.  


As soon as Nabooru jumped down, the guards froze the base of the bridge with a thick sheet of ice, inhibiting the men from crossing it. She was able to maneuver through the befuddled men and slide on her knees across the bridge before they could even begin to try a pursuit. The ice was then set ablaze behind her, causing the men to scowl and flee.  


“That was brilliant, Lady! They think we’ve burnt the bridge down!” one of the girls rejoiced as the fire and ice fizzled each other out until the bridge was back to its original state. Nabooru only gave a preoccupied nod of the head and started her walk home.  


“Is something the matter?” she tried, but no response was given.  


“Leave her be,” another urged.  


“Is it true what they said?” a third asked, making her way to the front of the crowd. “Did you kill a child?” Nabooru stopped in her tracks and turned her head to glance at her.  


“I would not lie to my own sisters,” she spoke plainly. From the bag, Nabooru pulled out a full bottle of rum and uncorked it, bringing it to her lips. She started walking home again, not stopping to answer anyone’s questions, and kept the drink flowing down her throat.


	3. The Blood She Spilt

Nabooru didn’t remember her front door being so difficult to open; the doorknob wouldn’t turn in her hand. Eventually, she was able to focus long enough enter her house, wherein she dragged the bag behind her and turned to close the door. When she turned back around, the little bloody boy stood waiting, expressionless.  


Nabooru frowned. “No,” she told him and turned to go in a different room. As she entered her sitting room, he appeared again in the entrance behind her.  


“Slayer,” he called shortly before an empty rum bottle whizzed through his head. It landed behind him and shattered against the wall. Nabooru threw herself down on the sofa with a replacement bottle.  


“Go away,” she told him harshly, pulling the cork of the new bottle out with her teeth. “You don’t mean anything to me.”  


“Then why am I here?” he asked, approaching her side.  


“Because I haven’t had enough to drink,” she spat, downing another bottle.  


“It’ll make it worse.” Nabooru didn’t bother parting her lips from her drink to respond. At her silence, the boy continued. “Did I serve my purpose?”  


“You already asked me that,” she replied after taking a moment to empty her second bottle.  


The boy looked down in contemplation. “You didn’t answer.”  


“If I do, will you go away?”  


“There was no purpose, was there?”  


“You don’t know what you’re talking about, you stupid thing,” Nabooru said, her frustration rising and her words slurring. “It was either you or someone I care about. I saved them.”  


The Sheikah boy walked to the window and stared out at the view; of desert sands, of village houses, and, most prominently, of Ganondorf’s castle.  


“I don’t think you did, Nabooru.” His voice was soft, especially for his age. “I think you killed me just to buy someone another day.”  


There was a tense silence as Nabooru stopped drinking, but didn’t respond. Her movement was slow to sit up, careful to orient herself in a room that had begun spinning, with a child that had gotten on her last nerve.  


“Get out,” she commanded, her voice low and her words clear. And, to her surprise, he did.  


Nabooru stumbled to her feet, took a step, and fell to the floor on her hands and knees. When she looked back up, dozens of apparitions appeared on either side of her, lining a pathway through her home. Most were Sheikah, but some were her own sisters, Gerudo that Ganondorf had become suspicious of, or had no use for anymore. Each one stared down at her with scorn and pointed down the path they created. She followed, crawling, into the bathroom where they formed a circle around her tub.  


Nabooru found a way back to her feet, using the tub as support, and turned the faucet on. Vivid red blood poured out and filled the glass, steam filling the room. When it filled, the phantoms spoke in unison.  


“What’s the matter? Can’t drown in the blood you spilt?” Before she had any time to react, Nabooru was pushed into the tub and she felt a great force on her head. The blood burned her face and neck, but she couldn’t fight her way back up. Her breath was running short, and her chest began to convulse as she exhausted her oxygen supply. She went limp, succumbing to the dizzy darkness in her head.  


In that moment, Nabooru felt the hair on her scalp being grabbed and she was yanked to the surface, where she took a deep, exasperated breath that gave way to a coughing fit.  


“Nabooru! What in Din’s name?!” Raewyn’s voice. She felt a pair of arms wrap around her torso and a warm body being held against her. “Nabooru, what were you thinking? You could have died!” Raewyn focused her eyes on Nabooru’s, who gave a dazed look in return. “Are you drunk?”  


She finished her wheezing and spoke. “Yes.”  


At her honest answer, the doctor looked disheartened, defeated. If Raewyn had been angry, Nabooru could have apologized, but this was a reaction she didn’t know how to handle.  


“I saw them. All of them,” Nabooru tried explaining through fumbling words.  


“Bad?” Raewyn asked.  


Nabooru shook her head, though she didn’t know why. Of course it was bad, for her to be here, plastered, nearly drowned, on the floor of her own bathroom. She wanted desperately to tell Raewyn how terrible it was to see the souls she’d stolen, how they tormented her; but that hopelessness in Raewyn’s eyes, having to see Nabooru like this, maybe the lie would make her feel better, even if she could see right through it.  


Raewyn sighed. “Alright, Nabooru, it’s time for you to lie down.”  


“I can’t,” she protested.  


“Why not?” At that, Nabooru crawled over to the toilet and vomited everything in her stomach into the bowl. Raewyn reached to pull her long hair back away from her face as she wretched, ready to help clean her up with a damp cloth, as always.

\----------

Nabooru awoke to a pounding headache and a warm body by her side. Raewyn stirred and breathed slowly, pulling some more blankets off of Nabooru and over to her side.  


“Raewyn,” she said, shaking the doctor awake. “Raewyn, wake up.”  


“What is it?” she asked and sat up in alarm, though not fully alert. “What’s wrong?”  


“You can’t be here. You’re in danger.”  


“Nabooru,” Raewyn began, allowing her eyes to adjust to the darkness. “I was worried about you. You never told me what happened.”  


“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said, looking down in shame.  


“I think I can piece it together from what I’ve heard from the guards at the gate,” Raewyn admitted, and placed a comforting hand on Nabooru’s. “Your sisters don’t hate you. In fact, we’re on your side. It was Ganondorf, wasn’t it?”  


“No, Raewyn. Stay out of it. I know you want to revolt, but he’s far too powerful, and our sisters they may be, the Guild will stand by him.” By “the Guild” Nabooru meant Ganondorf’s personal army, the girls who had sold themselves into unquestioning mercenary work for their king. They were the ones who fought off the raids of men early post-war looking for gold, food, and women. Ganondorf’s Guild was always ready at a moment’s notice, always fierce, and always aloof from the other women. The divide in the desert went twixt the Guild women and the rest of the Gerudo, the former group thinking themselves too superior to mingle with the latter.  


“We won’t start a revolt,” Raewyn reassured her, stroking her hand, “but just know that we’re behind you, no matter what choices you make. You have your sisters.”  


“But you’re all in danger. You, Raewyn, are in danger just by being here. He will use you specifically against me if he so chose. If I do anything against him, if he is somehow displeased with me, if-”  


“Don’t worry about me, love. I’ll be fine. I promise,” she interjected and kissed the panicking Nabooru’s lips to calm her. “Now, back to sleep.” Raewyn sank back under the covers, holding her partner just a little tighter.  


But Nabooru couldn’t sleep. Her hangover was too fierce to get any sort of rest, and the stress of knowing that she was endangering everyone wasn’t helping, either. She got up, carefully, so as not to wake Raewyn again, and fetched herself a glass of water from the kitchen. She considered something to eat, but at the thought of food, her stomach churned, and instead she went out the front door.  


The sky was clear, as desert skies often are, which made the stars ripe for gazing. Nabooru could tell what time it was by the coldness of the sand on her feet; the sun had been down for a while, which meant it would be dawn in an hour.  


Was a spy watching her now? It was difficult to tell, but Nabooru didn’t plan on doing anything suspicious or rebellious, so the matter was irrelevant.  


It wasn’t until she went to pick up a handful of sand that she realized that her wrist was bandaged, wrapped, and the swelling had almost completely gone down. She smiled for the first time in a few days and sat on the sand, staring up at the sky, wondering how they could align to save herself, her people, and her Raewyn.

\-------------

Nabooru watched the sunrise on the sand. The night guards, who saw Nabooru and kept an eye on her but didn’t disturb her, were being replaced by the morning guards. They, too, knew not to bother their contemplative leader, especially on the verge of a rebellion.  


Or, at least, they anticipated a rebellion. Word spread of Nabooru’s deed in the city, how unprovoked such an act was. Some started to piece together that she was forced into it by their king, and then began to wonder what other terrible things he had done. Things began to make sense; the sudden disappearance of their sisters, an influx of resources being “lost” in the transport, and now, unexplained violence. Even the travesties outside of the Gerudo desert, the women sensed were his doing. They knew he had a plan, and, either out of anger or curiosity or both, they were itching to find out.  


“Rise, Nabooru,” Ganondorf’s voice commanded from behind her. She had sensed his arrival by his footsteps in the sand, and from that moment, all she could do was await her fate. She obeyed his command, but didn’t turn to face him. She squinted at the sunrise, unnerved by the presence that loomed over her.  


“Turn,” he ordered after a moment of staring at the back of her head. Her turn was reluctant but her gaze into his eyes was immediate. She wished to bring him to his knees and make him apologize to her, to her sisters, and to the beings beyond the desert; she wished to make him beg and cry for mercy; finally, she wished to lock him away forever, where he could do no more harm to those she cared about.  


But that was just fantasy. For now, anyway. In the meantime, Nabooru held her glare, waiting for the king to speak.  


“I’m sorry,” he began, causing Nabooru to recoil but remain wary. “I didn’t mean to lose my temper like I did.”  


“I don’t understand.”  


“It’s an apology, pet. If you were smart, you’d accept it. And I know you’re a smart girl. Now hug me, and let us put this nasty act behind us.” Ganondorf opened his arms for Nabooru and stared down at her until she cautiously entered his embrace and wrapped her arms around his torso. Once he had her in his grasp, he squeezed her and leaned down to whisper in her ear.  


“You’d better adjust your attitude toward me, Nabooru. I want these girls just as obedient to me as you are, am I understood? I’d hate to see the death toll if there were to be an uprising.” He gave her an extra wring for good measure before letting her go.  


“Yes, sir,” she responded once she was free. “I’ll take care of it.”  


“Very well,” he said, beginning to leave. Before he turned away, Nabooru’s wrapped wrist caught his eye. “I see you’re healing well. Raewyn must be taking very good care of you.” Without waiting for a response, Ganondorf smirked and departed, reveling in his own malevolent power.

\----------

Knife after knife whizzed through the air as Nabooru sent them flying at her own bedroom wall, grunting with the release of each one. She was exhausted and sweaty, but her frustration kept her going.  
Prisoner, each knife seemed to whisper with each cut. Prisoner to Ganondorf. Prisoner within the desert. Prisoner within her own life.  


What was left of her free will was gone; she could make none of her own choices as long as Ganondorf was watching. What used to be a paranoid guess about using her relationship with Raewyn to manipulate her turned to reality in an instant. His apology, a fake one she was forced to accept, included threats toward those she vowed to protect. Still, following Ganondorf’s commands will undoubtedly reignite war; another risk she wasn’t willing to take.  


Clink! One knife flew into another, causing them both to fall.  


Nabooru was in too deep to do anything about it. She had sold herself to him when she was young and didn’t know any better, and he was using that to his advantage. He was using her to his advantage.  
Prisoner. Another blade ripped a hole in the wall.  


Everything he had ever told her had been a lie. She was doing evil work for him, not good. She was hurting the innocent, not helping them. She was causing pain and suffering, all at the puppeteer hands of Ganondorf.  


My entire life is a lie, she thought as she dropped to her knees, chest heaving from exhausted breaths. How did I get myself into this mess?  


Of course, she knew the answer to that question. She didn’t like to think about it, for every time she did, she only grew angrier at herself. But something this time made the memories flood back, so much so that she was unable to suppress them.  


Nabooru stabbed her last knife into the ground and rose to get herself a drink. She checked under her bed, in her storage chest, and in the fridge for her bag, but it was nowhere to be found.  


“Raewyn took it,” said the guard who had been watching Nabooru the whole day by order of Raewyn. “She said you need some time sober.”  


“I’m a grown woman. I can get a drink if I want,” she replied furiously.  


“After what happened yesterday? You nearly killed yourself. I agree with Raewyn,” the guard protested, crossing her arms over her chest.  


“You realize I could just as easily go into the city and get some for myself, right?”  


The guard laughed. “She said you’d say that. She told me to remind you that you’re a wanted woman there. Even disguised, they’d be looking for you.”  


Nabooru stomped her foot in anger. “I outrank you!”  


“She said you’d say that, too, and said to tell you that the fact that you outrank me won’t get you any alcohol. What’s making you want to drink, Lady, if I may ask?”  


Nabooru wanted to remove the woman from her house, but if Raewyn found out, she would make the same heartbroken expression as she did the night prior, and Nabooru couldn’t handle that again. So, instead, she ignored the well-meaning guard, flung herself on the bed, and remembered.  


Nabooru was not yet thirteen years in age when she stood before Ganondorf beside fifty other girls, all of whom were older than her by at least three years. He was to select his protégé out of this lineup of fatigued, wounded, and mentally fried girls who had been put through too many tests to count. When Nabooru was chosen, the other girls were livid that this child triumphed over them. But over the years they learned to respect her as a leader, or they joined the Guild, where they would never have to take orders from her.  


She was isolated immediately following the decision, which she didn’t mind, considering not a single one of those girls was her friend. Her mother had run off five years prior, and she hadn’t any immediate sisters around; she was used to being alone.  


Ganondorf put her through even more trials, most of which were intellectual, and even more tests of loyalty. She knew nothing but obedience and loyalty toward him, making the king very pleased.  


In a way, he was her creator. She didn’t know anything outside of what he told her, and it was only in seeing how people interacted outside the desert that Nabooru started to become self-aware. She was her own person with free will, just as the strange, light-skinned people in Hyrule Castle Town were.  


Prisoner. The whispers brought her back to the present, which she didn’t mind, as she didn’t want to remember much more than that. There was too much beyond that, too much stolen from her that made an anger boil up inside.  


“I want a drink!” she screamed into the pillow on her bed.  


“You should sleep now, Lady,” the guard suggested as she sat beside Nabooru. “You’ve been up since before dawn.”  


“I’m not tired,” she fought, but before long, she found herself drifting off without having intended to.


	4. Strength in Numbers

Nabooru awoke to being shaken and her name called in a harsh whisper. The urgency in the voice roused her from her restless slumber and brought her to her feet faster than she’d ever awakened before. It was Raewyn, and even in the dark of night she could see easily the distress in her wide eyes. Nabooru grabbed the pair of scimitars she kept by her bedside and allowed herself to be led into the dark by the tight hand around her wrist.  
They were silent, stealthy, as they ran from Nabooru’s home to the central Gerudo village. Raewyn pulled her girlfriend through the doors of the medicenter, which was unusually barren.  
“Raewyn, what’s happening?” Nabooru asked, her voice echoing throughout the empty building. Her hands twitched toward the blades resting at her hips as she struggled to find a threat.  
“Downstairs,” Raewyn ordered through panting breaths, and rushed toward the back of the room. Nabooru had no choice but to follow, nearly sliding down the steps at a breakneck pace.  
The basement of the medicenter was occupied with dozens of Gerudo – all unharmed, standing, staring at Nabooru as if they had been waiting for her. What conversation she had walked in on had been immediately hushed as she stood before her sisters. Raewyn, too, stood silent, a nervous smile on her face.  
“It’s not my birthday, Raewyn,” Nabooru said, sheathing her weapons. There were some chuckles from the crowd, though Nabooru didn’t intend a joke.  
“This isn’t a surprise party.”  
“Then what is it? Why am I here?”  
Raewyn sighed, her breath shaky. “It’s an army. Against Ganondorf.”  
No sooner had Raewyn finished her answer did Nabooru turn heel and bolt back up the stairs, stretching her legs to take three steps at a time. Raewyn called out after her, following in her footsteps, but her girlfriend wouldn’t slow down.  
Nabooru reached the exit to the medicenter, ready to fling the doors open and rush out, when a figure outside stopped her. She instinctively flattened herself against the wall and, with a shush, prompted Raewyn to do the same.  
“Nabooru, where are you going?” Raewyn whispered.  
“I’m going to cause a distraction. You need to get everyone out of here without anybody outside noticing. Take them out two at a time or else they’ll draw attention—”  
“We’re not leaving,” Raewyn interrupted.  
Nabooru paused, mulling over Raewyn’s words. “’We?’”  
“Ganondorf has been abusing his power and we—”  
“You’re in on this?” Nabooru asked, the hurt in her voice stopping Raewyn midsentence.  
Raewyn was silent, feeling shamed for something that brought her much pride just minutes before. But Nabooru awaited an answer, and so Raewyn muttered, “Yes.”  
“We talked about this, Raewyn! This isn’t worth the amount of lives that will be lost.” Her voice wasn’t quite so hushed any longer.  
“No, you talked about this! And people are dying by the hundreds under Ganondorf!”  
“Yes; Sheikah and Hylians and our other enemies,” Nabooru pointed out. “He’s keeping us safe.”  
“He’s keeping himself safe.”  
“And so what if he is? What do you care?”  
“I care about you, Nabooru!” Tears welled up in Raewyn’s eyes. “I can’t keep finding you like I did yesterday! One of these days, he’s going to push you over the edge, and I’m not going to be able to pull you back. I can’t keep living with this perpetual fear of what I’m going to find every time I open your door. Maybe, with him out of the picture, you can get the help you need and we can move past what you’ve done – together.”  
“I don’t need help; what I need is for you to stay as far away from Ganondorf and his dealings as you possibly can. I love you, Raewyn, but Ganondorf’s going to come straight for your head if he knows you’re involved. I can’t risk that.”  
Raewyn furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “Why would he come for me?”  
“He knows, Raewyn,” Nabooru said with a defeated sigh. “He knows about you, and about us, and about this uprising, for that matter. This plan is dead in the water, and my priority right now is to get everyone out of here safely.”  
“And then what?”  
Nabooru shrugged, annoyed with the question. “Then we pretend none of this ever happened.”  
“No, Nabooru,” Raewyn said in a firm tone Nabooru had only heard a handful of times. “And then what? You go back to serving Ganondorf, killing whoever gave him a dirty look that day, until what? What’s the end goal?”  
“Keeping you alive,” Nabooru answered without hesitation. “Once he succeeds in whatever he’s been planning, he won’t need me anymore. He’ll let me go.”  
“He’d kill you before he does that.”  
Raewyn was hiding sadness and desperation in her eyes, but not well enough to keep Nabooru from noticing. It made Nabooru want to grab her love’s hands and run away into the night, just the two of them. After all, she was right; there was no way they were getting out of this with both of them alive. If they ran, right now and kept going, they could find a place where Ganondorf could never find them and they could live out the rest of their days.  
But the rest of the village would suffer without her to look after them. She’d be forsaking the lives of many for one, and as ready as she was to make that sacrifice, Nabooru and Raewyn shared one value: never abandon those in need.  
“This won’t work, Raewyn,” Nabooru said softly, caressing Raewyn’s face.  
“But it might. And only if you join us.”  
Nabooru had rejected Raewyn enough lately, she thought, and so she conceded, if only to see her smile again.

The women who had assembled for the revolt were of varying trades in the desert: glassblowers, water carriers, doctors, seamstresses – all of them had a stake in taking Ganondorf down. Through them, a pattern had been exposed of sacrificing Gerudo energy, resources, and lives, for an unknown gain. Nabooru couldn’t deny their claims, having been utilized herself by Ganondorf for his own purposes, and yet, each person that talked to her already seemed like a ghost in the wind, gone with the next gust.  
But they were so adamant about their freedom, their justice, that Nabooru couldn’t bring herself to poke holes in their plans, to reveal to them Ganondorf’s true nature. He would win, as he always does, and this untrained army couldn’t hold a flame to the undying loyalty of the Guild.  
Some of them were too young, barely old enough to start their apprenticeships in the village, but the fire in their eyes burnt the brightest, unfortunately. They reminded Nabooru of herself, wanting to prove her utility despite her youth – and how that path led her to her moral imprisonment.  
What could she do, then? Let them perish from their self-affirmed righteousness? They thought they already knew the risks, but if they truly knew, truly, then they would know that they wouldn’t be risks; they would be perils.  
Nabooru was about to address her concerns to Raewyn when a commotion in a far hallway drew her attention. She ran over, turned the corner, and stopped when a woman had slammed a door shut in front of her.  
“We caught a spy, Lady Nabooru,” the woman said, as if it were a thrill to her. “We tied her up and locked her in here.”  
“A spy?” Nabooru’s heart pounded in her chest. It couldn’t all be over this soon, could it? Did she still have time to get everyone out?  
“I recognized her from Ganondorf’s Guild. It’s the only reason one of his dogs would come here.”  
“There could be more. Take a team and sweep the perimeter.” The woman nodded and hustled off, leaving just Nabooru, a spy, and a door between them.  
Any member of the Guild would recognize Nabooru on sight, but she had to know what Ganondorf knew, and the answer to that could be just beyond the door. In an instant, her anxiety overrode her self-preservation instinct, and she opened the door.  
“I’m not a spy! You dim-wits, if you would take half a second to listen to me, I could— Nabooru!”  
Indeed, it was a member of Ganondorf’s Guild sitting on the floor of the supply closet, but Nabooru couldn’t put a name to her face. She was younger than most of them – around eighteen – so she was likely newer. In Ganondorf’s eyes, that made her expendable, thus making her a perfect message to send to Nabooru on a “reconnaissance mission.”  
“What are you doing here?”  
“Let me go and I’ll tell you!” The Guild warrior struggled against the medical tape and bandages that bound her hands and feet together. For improvised binding, it was sturdy, but that wouldn’t stop her from gnawing at the tape on her hands. If she truly was a message, she posed no threat. Nabooru cut her free.  
“So you actually have some sense to you,” she said with genuine surprise. “I’ve heard differently from the other Guild members.”  
“What are you doing here?” Nabooru repeated; the Guild hating Ganondorf’s trophy was not news to her.  
“I came to join. This movement isn’t going anywhere without someone who knows what you’re up against.”  
Nabooru crossed her arms. “I know what we’re up against. Plus, this isn’t Ganondorf’s most elaborate way to plant a spy on us.”  
“I’m not a spy!” The young woman huffed. “I hate Ganondorf and the cult he created around him and I want out. But because of the stupid oath he made us take, I can’t leave. He told us about a potential uprising and I thought that this could be my way out.”  
“You’re trapped,” Nabooru said softly, with understanding.  
“No, he’s trapped, because I’m leaving and he’s not going to be able to do anything about it with an uprising on his hands.”  
“Interesting take. What’s your name?”  
“Aveil.”  
“Aveil,” Nabooru repeated. “Are there more like you?”  
“As if,” Aveil scoffed. “The rest of the Guild would lick his boot if he asked. They’re so desperate for his approval, especially with how much he loves you.”  
Nabooru couldn’t help but laugh at the last part; if Ganondorf loved her, he had a funny way of showing it.  
It didn’t take long for the rest of the resistance to be convinced by Aveil’s commitment to the cause; those who didn’t trust Nabooru’s judgement were swayed by Aveil’s accounts of Ganondorf’s misdeeds and treachery. Still, one Guild member wouldn’t tip the very biased scale, although everyone else seemed to get a morale boost from it.  
As the night went on, Nabooru started to regret Aveil’s involvement – the others seemed to feel invincible having both Nabooru and a mole in Ganondorf’s highest ranks. Their plans moved forward, then, as they prepared to pool information and resources; Nabooru’s nerves pooled her throat.  
“It’s going to work, Ru,” Raewyn assured when she sensed Nabooru’s anxiety. “Just give us time, and we’ll get the upper hand.”  
She wished she could believe that.

The women departed after some closing formalities, leaving Nabooru alone in the basement of the medicenter. She needed time alone to think, she had told Raewyn, and thus was given the silence of the midnight basement to organize her thoughts.  
Nabooru didn’t like how gung-ho they were about their chances, but they were right about a few things: first, having Aveil on board was an asset. The Guild posed the biggest threat, and having someone with the ability to neutralize them was critical to dethroning Ganondorf. Second, they needed Naboorou. Without her on board, they had no connection to Ganondorf, and no way to plan an attack. As much as Nabooru didn’t want to do this, she could never leave her sisters in need. If this is what they wanted, then she would help them to the best of her ability – even if it meant their death.  
Lastly, they were right to focus on the Guild – besides herself, they were Ganondorf’s greatest tool. However, the Guild was kept physically and socially separate from the rest of the Gerudo. Their only connection to them was Aveil.  
But Aveil was but a child to them; she would have years to prove her devotion to Ganondorf, and thus earn the trust of the rest. She likely had just passed her initiation, whatever cruel task the women had decided it to be this year, and yet, the bonds they formed were by blood, whether it be theirs or another’s. Aveil had not spilt enough blood with them – yet.  
To wait for her trust to be earned would be years, a timeframe the rest of the rebellion would be too restless to accept. Any prodding by Aveil would be met by the Guild with suspicion at best, and at worst, everything would crumble.  
“Ru,” Raewyn called as she descended the stairs to the basement. Nabooru was pulled from her contemplative trance and stopped her pacing, something she hadn’t realized she was doing until she stopped.  
“Ru, my shift is over and it’s getting late. You can stay here if you want, but I’ll need to let Dess know—” Nabooru’s lips stopped Raewyn’s, a hunger behind them the doctor only rarely felt from her. She kissed her back, and soon found herself being pulled further back into the basement. Whatever had come over Nabooru was a surprise to Raewyn, but she knew better than to question this gift, and so allowed herself to melt into this moment of bliss.


	5. The War Within

The days passed like weeks, each moment Nabooru’s stomach in knots waiting for the moment for everything to turn south. She dreaded each conversation with Ganondorf, as if he were luring her into a trap to punish her for her mutiny. She maintained her composure the best she could, perhaps overcompensating with how she met his eyes, a mask of confidence that betrayed her impending doom. But if Ganondorf knew, he showed no sign of it, instead talking with Nabooru with his usual business-like demeanor.  
Then again, if he did know, why would he give up that advantage?  
Nabooru found herself hiding in her house for most of the days. Raewyn’s visits were less frequent as she spearheaded the resistance movement, and when she did visit, she was strictly business as well. Of course, she sensed Nabooru’s apprehension, but was convinced that if she would just believe in this cause, she could fix everything, just as she always did. So she brought Nabooru updates of the new members, of the resources they brought and the plans they were forming. And Nabooru would nod, keeping track of the body count that her girlfriend was inevitably adding to.  
More frequently, however, Nabooru’s isolation was broken by a different visitor.  
“Hey!” Aveil called from the windowsill upon which she sat. Nabooru was pulled from her anxious trance at the foot of her bed and ran to the window.  
“Would you get in here before someone sees you?!” Nabooru scolded, yanking Aveil into her house and shutting the window behind her.  
Aveil rolled her eyes, a smirk lighting up her face. “I have some news I thought you’d want to hear.”  
“Did you bring me anything?”  
Aveil flicked Nabooru’s forehead. “We need you sharp for this. You’ll have to learn to live without drinking for a while.” Aveil went on with her news, despite Nabooru’s scowling. “Ganondorf is sending us – the Guild – on a mission. We’ll be gone for days.”  
Nabooru, barely listening, held her glare.  
“Meaning the resistance can confront Ganondorf without worrying about his cult.”  
Still, Nabooru said nothing.  
“Hello!? Nabooru, our people won’t have to die. With the Guild gone, there’ll be no big conflict. It’ll just be you and Ganondorf.”  
“And when the Guild comes back? Then what?”  
“You just let me worry about that,” Aveil said with a wink that gave Nabooru no comfort.  
“You shouldn’t be involved in this, Aveil. Just go and pretend you know nothing.”  
“No! You need me in this, don’t forget. You can’t push me to the side.”  
“I don’t need you if you’re not going to tell me what you’re planning.”  
At that moment, Raewyn entered without so much of a knock, slumped over and on a one-way track to her girlfriend’s soft bed. She barely noticed the other visitor, only that Nabooru didn’t greet her as she often did.  
“Aveil?” Raewyn said once she oriented her tired eyes. “Why are you here? Did something happen?”  
“No,” Nabooru answered before Aveil could say anything. “Nothing happened. Aveil was just leaving. Discreetly,” she added.  
“Raewyn! I have great news!” Aveil said, ignoring Nabooru’s direction. “In two days, the entire Guild is going to be sent on a mission to the Hyrule mainland. That’ll be your shot at Ganondorf. And,” she added enthusiastically, “yours truly will be there to stall and ensure you have all the time you need.”  
"Two days," Raewyn repeated under her breath, calculating time in her tired mind. "You're sure? That doesn't give us much time."  
Aveil nodded. "The Guild will be gone. That's our best chance to confront Ganondorf with minimal casualties. It's short notice, I know, but--"  
"We'll take it."  
"No, we won't!" Nabooru interjected, catching Raewyn's attention for the first time. "Thank you, Aveil, for the information, but the village isn't ready just yet."  
"Aveil, I'll meet you at the medicenter," Raewyn sighed. Once the defacto guild member had left, she turned to her lover. "Ru..."  
"Don't 'Ru' me, Raewyn. You can't keep doing that and expect to get whatever you want."  
Nabooru's sudden callousness threw Raewyn off her guard, and she fumbled over her next words. "I'm not doing this to manipulate you. Just give this a chance, Ru, please."  
"I've played along with this for long enough. It was one thing to plan, but I refuse to allow you to lead these women to their deaths. And over what? Our love? Put things into perspective for once, and take a look at what you're doing." Nabooru's voice grew louder and deeper as she spoke, unaware of the underlying growling and the glare that struck Raewyn cold.  
"Nabooru, I thought you wanted this," Raewyn stammered, stiffening her lip as tight as she could.  
"I want us, Raewyn." Nabooru grabbed Raewyn’s hands and kissed each one.  
"We can't be us under Ganondorf, love. Something bad is brewing because of him.” “You don’t think I already know this?”  
“Then let us do something about it!”  
Nabooru dropped her lover’s hands, and let her head fall with them. “I can’t let innocent people die because of an evil that I’m responsible for.”  
“That you’re responsible for?” Raewyn asked. She went to caress Nabooru’s face, but was rejected with a shake of her head.  
“All of his misdeeds were carried out by me, Raewyn. The killing, the stealing; he ordered it but it was my actions that put us where we are.” Nabooru’s voice cracked as she spoke. “It’s all my fault.”  
“Ru, no!” Raewyn cooed, taking her hands again and pulling her toward the bed. She sat Nabooru down and wrapped an arm around her. “You know that’s not true! He has his connections, and the Guild, and his mothers—”  
“They’re pawns,” Nabooru interjected. “They don’t know what they’re doing, only to do it. But me, Raewyn, I know that he’s doing evil and I keep doing it. I keep doing it, and I help him plan it.” She took a sharp breath, and finally met Raewyn’s eyes again. “Please, Raewyn, don’t rush this rebellion before I’ve had a chance to make this right myself. I can’t have more death on my hands.”  
“I was doing this for you, Ru,” Raewyn explained. “You’re just as much a victim in this as the rest of us are, if not more. I wanted to take care of this for you.”  
Nabooru’s manner softened, only on the outside, trying to soothe Raewyn’s fears. “Let me try first, okay? Please.”  
And, as always, Raewyn had no choice but to trust her love.

If it meant saving the lives of those who would risk theirs for her – the lives of those who were more valuable to the village, she thought – then Nabooru would find it in her to confront Ganondorf, alone. Her confession to Raewyn made her realize that, since she played such a large role in his schemes, if he wanted them completed, he would have to listen to her. At least, she hoped he would.  
She had only truly held conversation with her king a handful of times, and each one was more unpleasant than the last. It wasn’t just his tendency to lecture and patronize, but with each word uttered, Nabooru felt herself playing a game of chess wherein she had already lost all of her pieces. To speak with Ganondorf earnestly was a goal of fantasy, so her walk toward his palace was busy with plans of how she could use her words to, at the very least, prevent an early defeat.  
The guards pointed Nabooru toward Ganondorf’s war room, where he debriefs his agents on their upcoming missions. However, as the years went on, Ganondorf took less formal measures in guiding Nabooru, instead instructing her at his earliest convenience, whether that be in the throne room, in his chambers, or outside her own home. Nabooru despised what seemed to her to be ambushes of tasks to complete, never being able to trust a moment alone.  
She sighed outside the war room, trying and failing to recall her last moment of true peace, before opening the door.  
“Stand down, Mara,” Ganondorf ordered, and one of the two dozen Guild members pulled back the knife she had ready to throw at the intruder, albeit begrudgingly.  
“Don’t you knock?” another asked. Ganondorf and his Guild were standing surrounding a large table in the middle of the room upon which laid a map of Hyrule and the bordering areas. But everyone’s eyes were torn from the map and glared at Nabooru, clearly displeased with her presence. Nabooru, in return, was taken aback by them; she couldn’t confront Ganondorf with his devotees beside him.  
Ganondorf silenced his followers with a simple raise of a hand. “What is it, Nabooru?”  
“I need to talk to you, sir,” Nabooru answered, fighting a stammer that, judging by the snickers of her peers, still came through.  
“Is it urgent?”  
Nabooru scanned the crowd of impatient faces; the one called Mara still fiddled with the knife in her hands, itching at an opportunity to strike Ganondorf’s favorite agent down.  
“It can wait,” she said, finally. With a final shooing motion from Ganondorf, Nabooru left and stood for a moment outside the door, confused as to where to go. She wandered upstairs and, thinking of nowhere else to go, found her way into Ganondorf’s chambers, where she intended to wait patiently for him. However, when her eyes did some wandering of her own and found open journals and atlases on his desk, she followed her thieving instinct and starting skimming through the pages.  
Sticking to the pages that have been tabbed and marked, Nabooru found herself deep in passages about the historical and religious roots of Hyrule; stories of goddesses and their creation, their realms of jurisdiction, and their departure from the land they formed. But there were pieces missing – pieces omitted so blatantly that it was impossible to not notice. Those gaps led her to the other opened pages, down a path that Ganondorf had paved. He was searching for something, for answers, and Nabooru found herself not only a witness, but a momentary accomplice in this hunt as she skimmed the hollow words.  
“Find anything interesting?”  
Ganondorf’s voice should have startled her, would have, if the knowledge she accumulated about celestial powers didn’t make her suspicious of him. She took a moment to finish the line she was reading, sighed, and pushed the book away from her, still open.  
“Nothing more than what you found,” Nabooru answered. She rose from the chair and faced him, but instead of the furious demeanor she had braced herself for, she found him pensive, observing her as he had when she first came under his wing.  
“And what do you think of it?” Ganondorf asked. Nabooru could feel him luring her into something, so she kept her guard up as she responded.  
“It’s vague fantasy, sir. Why are you so invested in this?”  
“There are only so many things I can teach you, Nabooru,” Ganondorf began as he shut the door to his chambers. “You’ve done so well to follow my orders up until this point. But things are changing, and I need you to follow your intuition to steer you in the right direction.”  
Nabooru’s resoluteness faltered for a moment as she realized that Ganondorf may be onto her, that whatever advantage she thought she had to try to negotiate with him had never existed. But his focus wasn’t on her; as he strolled about his chambers, his eyes gravitated toward the window that looked out upon the vast Gerudo Desert. So, Nabooru swallowed her questions, hoping her king would reveal more of his intentions before she had to speak.  
“Tell me, Nabooru: what do you see when you venture into Hyrule Castle Town? How has the war changed them?”  
“They’re struggling,” Nabooru answered, purposefully keeping her answers short.  
Ganondorf laughed to himself. “Are they, truly? Or is it just the few that suffer, while the elite hide comfortably in their homes?”  
Nabooru recalled her most recent trip to retrieve medicine from the Hylians, when she broke into a man’s house and took his valuables – after offering him many chances to donate himself.  
“There are those who distance themselves from the rebuilding efforts,” Nabooru agreed.  
“What a political way of putting it.” Ganondorf folded his arms behind his back, still staring out the window. “Come, Nabooru.”  
Nabooru quickly obeyed, taking her place at Ganondorf’s left side.  
“You care for our people far more than I do, undoubtedly. So I know that you see how they suffer, and not from aristocrats or wars, but from this harsh landscape we’ve settled enough to call ‘home.’ We take water from a river miles away, we trade what we can for food, until the next war makes it apparent that our goods aren’t needed, and we are left hunting what few, deadly creatures inhabit the desert with us. That is, until the rich Hylians feel safe enough to buy from us again. A cruel and unjust cycle, wouldn’t you agree?”  
“We become tougher through sand and grit. It gives us our reputation.”  
“A reputation of thieves, Nabooru. Savages. Don’t you think we’ve earned something better than this?”  
Nabooru was silent for a moment, contemplating. “You want to take their land from them. You want to throw us into another war.”  
“Into one last war, yes. But we have you, Nabooru,” he said, looking down at her with what resembled a smile. He left his place at the window and gestured to the books upon his desk. “More importantly, we have this.”  
“But what is ‘this?’” Nabooru asked.  
“A plan that will ensure power to me so that we won’t lose any Gerudo in the war. I’ve been asking a lot of you, and you come through every time. I can’t do this part without you, so I need you to trust me. Do you trust me, Nabooru?”  
Nabooru stared out the window, thinking of the land she had called home, that her sisters call home, and of what Ganondorf was asking of her to give up, to relocate her people. She thought of Raewyn most of all, and of what both of them desired: a simple life together. But a war stood between them and their dream. A war, she originally thought, against Ganondorf, only now she was given a second option; a war alongside Ganondorf.  
“I need to know what happens to me after this. After these wars you keep having me fight.”  
Ganondorf couldn’t keep his laughter to himself, something Nabooru very rarely saw – so rarely, in fact, that it unnerved her.  
“Are you asking me about retirement?” he asked. Nabooru, slightly embarrassed by his laughter, turned red and put her head down. “Yes, I suppose that if you do your part in the coming months, I could set you up to live comfortably with Raewyn, if you so choose.”  
The mention of Raewyn incited a panic within Nabooru; something about her name in his mouth made her squirm. Nevertheless, she agreed, albeit hesitantly, to his terms.  
“Yes, pet, you can trust me,” he assured. “But can I trust you?”  
In that moment, the secret of her joining the uprising came so close to passing her lips. She took a breath, ready to tell him, but fear paralyzed her before she spoke. How would he handle it? Of course, she had tried to suppress it from the inside, but had ultimately failed. But there was still time. She could always come clean about the rebellion later, after it was taken care of. For now, Nabooru had a different issue on her mind.  
“You were giving your Guild a briefing in the war room without me. It seems like you already don’t trust me.”  
“Nabooru,” he began, shaking his head, “when did you become so sensitive?”  
Again, Nabooru was too embarrassed to answer, and avoided eye contact.  
Ganondorf sighed. “Pet, I was giving your wrist time to heal. I regretted that whole ordeal, and thought you could use some time away.”  
Nabooru looked down at her wrist, which had almost fully healed thanks to Raewyn and, yes, to the time off. She pondered his words, which sounded so uncharacteristically sincere. Could it be that he truly cared this entire time, but only had trouble showing it? The incident with her wrist was terrifying, but it really had been her fault for disobeying orders, especially when he had her best interest in mind.  
“You’re right, sir. I’m sorry.”  
“Apology accepted,” Ganondorf replied, smiling to himself. “Now, rest up, because once the Guild sets off the day after tomorrow, you’re going to be a very busy Slayer.”  
Nabooru cringed, but obeyed, leaving Ganondorf’s chambers and feeling less confident about her choices than when she walked in.

The fading daylight caught Nabooru off guard as she stepped outside, realizing for the first time how much time she had spent sifting through the books on his desk. There was so much information to digest, history mixed with myth, fact mixed with theory, and not enough context to discriminate one from the other. As much as it confused her, she couldn’t help but worry about how confident Ganondorf felt about whatever he had deduced. The only things she could connect were the sources talking of a source of divine power, and Ganondorf’s penchant for it.  
Either way, Nabooru had time to learn of it. In two days and in the coming months, Ganondorf would brief her on his plans and her role in it. Then, once he had his power to take over Hyrule for the Gerudo, Nabooru could rest, finally free.  
Nabooru opened her front door to find Raewyn snoring away on her bed. She wanted so bad to wake her and tell her the news, how that a few months would lead to them living happily together – but she looked so peaceful, it would break her heart to wake her love. So instead, she took her place beside her love, and joined her in her dreams.


	6. Her Love is like a Ghost

Nabooru’s stomach felt as if she’d swallowed a brick. She knew Raewyn wouldn’t be happy about the plan to see Ganondorf’s next war through, but the sheer disappointment and betrayal in her face when she learned that Nabooru hadn’t even argued on their behalf was more than she could bear. She tried explaining the long-term payoff, of a life free from secrecy and danger in exchange for just a few more months. But Raewyn wouldn’t believe it. She tried so desperately to get Nabooru to understand that Ganondorf was manipulating her, that there would always be “just one more” mission to accomplish, that he would never truly let her step down.  
The two fought nearly half the day, begging the other to see the situation from their view, but neither backed down. Nabooru almost gave in, wanted to give in from the very beginning, but remembered that Ganondorf would show no mercy if Raewyn went through with her uprising. So, negotiating turned to begging, but that only made Raewyn firmer in her stance that Nabooru needed help immediately, that she needed out of this situation.  
Eventually, sick of getting nowhere, Raewyn informed Nabooru that she was late for her shift at the medicenter. She stormed toward the door and hesitated at the barrier, taking a moment to kiss Nabooru softly and tell her that she loved her, before continuing on her way. Nabooru, ever powerless to stop her, stood in her empty home, the new silence being broken by her rapid heartbeat.  
Her eyes were drawn to the window – afternoon, far too late for a sunrise meditation, like she was hoping for. Such luxuries helped her to clear her head, and the rise of the morning sun gradually warmed her skin in a way that allowed her to lose her body. She tried her meditation anyway, but found herself distracted by the sweat dripping down her neck, caused by the late afternoon sun beating on her for hours.  
Nabooru rose and wiped the sweat from her forehead with a huff. She needed a clear head if she were to figure out a way to save Raewyn from herself. Talking didn’t work, begging didn’t work – the only thing left would be to kidnap her until the Guild returned from their mission and she missed her window.  
She considered it, if only briefly. She couldn’t do that.  
Unless.  
Raewyn was not a fighter. The only weapon she ever learned to wield, even through all of her Gerudo training, was a simple dagger, and even then, she hadn’t touched one since she traded weapons for medicine. As for magic – well, it never came to her, though that was a shame she had put behind her. If Raewyn expected her plan to devolve into a confrontation, there was no way she expected to fight.  
There was no need to kidnap Raewyn; she could hide her instead. Let her plan the movements and the actions, but have her stay behind, and then Nabooru could take the reins.  
Before she could think her plan through any further, she was already running to the medicenter. She burst through the doors and headed straight for the lab, itching to convince her girlfriend to get into hiding as soon as possible. Instead, she found Raewyn’s coworker, Dess, hunched over Raewyn’s usual labware.  
“Where’s Raewyn?”  
“She’s not in today,” Dess answered, hardly acknowledging Nabooru’s entrance.  
“Yes she is, she said she was,” Nabooru argued.  
“I’m sorry Nabooru, I don’t know what to tell you.”  
Nabooru had met Dess only a handful of times. Like Raewyn, she mostly kept to the medicenter or to her house, and she was young, smart and dedicated to her work, if a little uptight about it. What Nabooru knew most about her, however, was that Dess was a friend and always the one Raewyn would have cover her shifts; and Dess always obliged.  
Nabooru’s motions were a blur, both to herself, blinded by fear and panic, and to Dess, who was unaccustomed to her speed. Suddenly, Nabooru had the lapels of Dess’s lab coat bunched up in her fists and had her pinned against the wall. Her hands heated up reflexively to put more pressure on her victim, and when she spoke, her voice was guttural.  
“Tell me where she is.”  
“She wouldn’t tell me!” Dess said, fear cracking her resolve. Nabooru sensed the truth, relaxed her hands, and dropped the doctor.  
“Give me your best guess. I’m trying to save her life.”  
Dess rose from the ground, shaken, but cooperative. “I don’t know. She asked me to work tonight for her because she had ‘important things to do.’ I didn’t ask questions. She only said she’d be back late tonight.”  
There was a tense silence as Dess tried to hold back a confession that was fighting its way out.  
“What else?” Nabooru asked.  
Dess was quiet, glancing over at Raewyn’s stethoscope, hanging neatly on a hook beside the door.  
“Dess! If you want her to live, I have to find her and get her to hiding. Tell me!”  
The doctor swallowed. “She told me not to tell you. She didn’t want you looking for her.”   
Nabooru slammed her fists on the lab bench and stayed there, hunched over, head hanging down to her chest.  
“Did she say anything else?” she asked, her voice low and defeated.  
“No. She ran out in a hurry.”  
Nabooru shook her head. “What am I supposed to do, Dess? You know what she’s planning, right? She wants a coup.”  
“I’ve tried to stop her, too, but you know how she is; her care goes beyond medicine. She sees people suffering under Ganondorf and she wants to stop it.”  
“Ganondorf will kill everyone who gets in his way. He’ll kill her to send a message.”  
“Nabooru, I wish I could help you,” Dess said. “My best guess is that she’s getting things set up now while the Guild prepares to set out tomorrow. I know she wants to avoid them as much as possible.”  
Nabooru’s head shot up. “You’re right. She’ll be avoiding the Guild at all costs.”  
“You know where she is?” Dess asked.  
“No, but I know where to start.”


	7. Ganondorf's Guild

Nabooru hadn’t been to the Guild’s barracks since she was fourteen years old; she was two years into her apprenticeship with Ganondorf, and was in search of a sparring partner on what was supposed to be a day off. Most of the Guild at that time consisted of those who had also sought to be Ganondorf’s second-in-command, and had settled for the consolation prize of being his personal army. Nabooru underestimated the grudge they would hold against her, or how enthusiastic they would be to oblige her request. They surrounded her, overwhelmed her in the name of “sparring,” and left her bloodied and bruised on the ground outside their barracks. She couldn’t hide the marks from Ganondorf, who laid into them for injuring his most precious asset. Since then, forbidden to lay a hand on her, the Guild resorted to snide remarks and dirty looks tossed Nabooru’s way. She didn’t mind; she was used to being alone.  
If Nabooru could find out what duties they were neglecting in preparations for their mission the next day, she could determine where the gaps were in security that Raewyn was currently taking advantage of, and she could find her, beg her to stop, and put her in hiding. Hopefully, the Guild would be more helpful than they were eight years ago.  
As soon as Nabooru opened the door, a knife whizzed past her head and stuck into the wall beside her. She flinched away from it, earning her a few mocking laughs from the women inside.  
“Careful! You might scratch Dollface.”  
Nabooru recognized the mocking voice as the one called Mara from Ganondorf’s war room meeting the day prior, the one who particularly didn’t enjoy her presence, and the feeling was more than reciprocated. She was lounged on a sofa, sparing Nabooru only a passing glance as the majority of her attention was spent on a sparring match in a makeshift arena in front of her. The two girls in the arena had their hands tied behind their backs, coming at each other with kicks and headbutts, while money exchanged hands between the spectators.  
Mara rose and sauntered over to Nabooru, plucking her knife from the wall as she spoke. “What do you want?”  
“I came to see if you needed any help preparing for tomorrow,” she lied. Most everyone from the Guild was in this room, watching the fight, meaning that none of them would be out, acting as eyes for Ganondorf; but she had to be sure.  
“What, jealous that Lord Ganondorf realized we’re more efficient than you are? His pet feeling a little lost?” This got a round of laughter from her minions behind her.  
“I’m just bored, Mara, and thought you might appreciate the help. I could take over some duties if your team needed to get rest.”  
“Take over?” A glint appeared in Mara’s eye. “What are you after?”  
Nabooru shook her head. “If Ganondorf is starting another war, I figured we could be more effective if we teamed up before we got in the thick of it.”  
Usually, Nabooru was very convincing, and could talk and human or Hylian out of their own wallets. But the Guild knew her, and more than that, they knew that nothing could force Nabooru to work with the them – even Ganondorf’s own orders led to Nabooru going on ahead to complete the task herself. Nabooru did her best to subtly find the gaps in the Guild that would lead to Raewyn, but they knew her.  
“No, Nabooru, that’s not it.” The conversation had begun to pique the interest of the others, who gradually left the sparring arena. “Tell me what you want right now or I’m going to tell Lord Ganondorf that you’re trying to trick us the night before a big mission – and you’re doing a terrible job at it.”  
“Why are you doing this, Mara?”  
“Because it makes you squirm,” Mara answered, her ego swelling the more she spoke. “And Lord Ganondorf’s favorite can afford to be taken down a few notches.”  
“Are you still upset that he picked me over you ten years ago? If you want my job so bad, then take it! We can go tell him right now.”  
“This isn’t about your job, princess. Lord Ganondorf has provided you with your own house, all the food you can hope to eat, and he even lets you fool around with that doctor. And yet, you have the audacity to try to sabotage his plans, to complain about the work, to offer me your job? Pathetic.”  
Nabooru’s stomach dropped at the mention of Raewyn. They knew? If they knew, they would be after her as a way to get to Nabooru. But if that was their plan, they’d attack her more about it, they’d be out tracking her lover down. And there, Nabooru realized, that being here wouldn’t track Raewyn down.  
“If you knew what he made me do, Mara, you wouldn’t be saying these things,” she replied, careful to avoid drawing attention to Raewyn.  
“It’s what we all do, and what we all signed up for! Lord Ganondorf is going to make the world better for us, and yet you still whine that you actually have to work for what he hands you. You are unbelievable, but what else should I expect from ta motherless like you?”  
That Nabooru slapped Mara was a surprise to nobody, as calling someone “motherless” in the Gerudo Desert was an insult so severe that it hushed everyone else in the room. Most of the women raised in the desert were lucky enough to have two mothers. Not uncommonly, only one mother would raise her daughters. However, in rare instances, a Gerudo would be forced to grow up without the guidance of a mother, but the village would come together to care for her, and would never bring up her status to her face. In Nabooru’s case, the one mother she had abandoned her when she was seven years old, and those five years before she went into Ganondorf’s care were lonely, no matter how many sympathetic looks the adults around gave her.In Nabooru’s case, the one mother she had abandoned her when she was seven years old, and those five years before she went into Ganondorf’s care were lonely, no matter how many sympathetic looks the adults around her gave her.  
But Nabooru knew always what the Guild thought of her, how they longed to call her “motherless” to her face. She saw it in the way they looked down on her, expecting so little of her, and murmuring about her to their peers, calling her other names that they could get away with. She knew one day that one of them would say it, and she expected herself to walk away. But her hand moved faster than her brain, and she slapped Mara with a force that would have echoed through the room even if the slur hadn’t silenced everyone else.  
Mara snapped her head back toward Nabooru. “I always hoped you’d strike first,” she snarled, rearing an arm back.  
“Wait!” Mara froze, and everyone in the room turned to the voice in the back. Aveil stood proud, her head high, but her breath held. “Lord Ganondorf won’t care who started it if you hurt his… little princess.” The Guild laughed reflexively at the insult, but Mara crossed her arms and scowled. Then, her eyebrows raised as an idea passed through her head.  
“Fair point, but I’m not letting her walk out of here thinking she can do whatever she wants to us.” Before Nabooru could interject, Mara walked over to a feature Nabooru hadn’t noticed when she first entered – a liquor cabinet. She opened it and pulled out a full bottle of rum, ripping the cork out with her teeth.  
“If you think you’ve got more mettle than us, you’re going to have to prove it.” Mara set the bottle down on a small wooden table as another Guild member set out two glasses.  
“I’m sober now,” Nabooru said quietly, avoiding eye contact with Mara.  
“’I’m sober now,’” Mara mocked, earning her a few laughs. “For what, two days?”  
“Two weeks.” More laughter rang in her ears.  
“Don’t worry; given a couple years, I’m sure you can build yourself back up to that point.”  
Before she knew what was happening, Nabooru was thrown into the seat opposite Mara, the empty glass so much larger than it ought to be in front of her.  
“I’m sorry I hit you, Mara,” Nabooru said as she swallowed a lump.  
“Not as sorry as you should be.” The glasses were filled.  
“I’m not doing this.”  
“Then you’re not leaving.” The rest of the Guild surrounded the table expectantly, except for Aveil, who couldn’t look more sorry.  
The past two weeks without drinking weren’t due to Nabooru’s devotion to bettering herself; Raewyn had all of the liquor from Nabooru’s house removed and had told the local shop-owner not to sell to her. Ganondorf hadn’t sent her on any missions to the central area of Hyrule, where she could’ve found some – not that she only went to Hyrule on missions, but with Raewyn’s plans being set into motion (despite Nabooru’s pleas), she didn’t feel comfortable leaving the desert, in case something happened to her girlfriend.  
Raewyn. Where was she, and how did the Guild know about her? As Nabooru stared at the glass, contemplating the fastest way to continue her search for her, the craving tickled the back of her head. Two weeks without drink had made Raewyn happy, and her smile was more than worth the nausea of quitting.  
But Raewyn wasn’t here. Not to stop her, not to encourage her, not to hold her and tell her the coup was off. Daylight was fading, and the only way back to Raewyn was at the bottom of that bottle. So she drank.


	8. Stumbling, Fumbling

When Nabooru drank, there was always a tipping point. First, there was the slowing of her thoughts – a welcome effect when she had too much on her mind. Afraid that it would wear off, she would keep drinking until they slowed almost to a halt, and she only needed to worry about her surroundings, about that moment. In that phase, there was no history of war crimes and subservience, and there was no hopeless, lonely future; there was only the numbing of her senses and the tickling of her brain. The tickling was her favorite part, how sometimes it made the room spin and the corners of her lips turn up for no reason. But still, she was afraid of losing that feeling, so she would drink more, and she would catch a glimpse of herself in the reflection of a mirror, of glass, of her swords, and feel so enraged at herself for letting her life get this way, that the only thing she could think to do was drink. The final stage was always, without fail, apologies. When Raewyn would find her, Nabooru would apologize to her, not for just drinking but for the things she’d done under Ganondorf. Other not so lucky times, she would apologize to seemingly nobody, the guilt of her deeds so heavy on her that she felt the need to confess them to the breeze in the hopes that maybe the universe would forgive her – or that she could forgive herself. She never did.  
Aveil had told her to go home, but she knew she couldn’t like this; not only would Raewyn’s disappointed face kill her (if she was even there), but it would send her lover into a rage that would accelerate her plan to take down Ganondorf. Nabooru needed to sober up before she continued her search for Raewyn. She would need water, food, and a quick rest. But if she couldn’t go home, where could she find such an oasis?  
The scent of roasted meat hit her like a hammer, and she looked up the stairs to her right. A servant she recognized from Ganondorf’s kitchen was carrying a tray down the hall, and before she knew what she was doing, Nabooru followed the scent up the stairs, gripping to the railing as if she would fly away without it. Once she reached the top, she followed the other Gerudo down the hall until she stopped in front of a door – the door. Nabooru halted, as the servant knocked, delivered the food to Ganondorf in his personal quarters, bowed, and left. Before he shut the door on her, the servant spotted Nabooru in her path, gave her a quick bow, and continued back to the kitchens. Ganondorf noticed this gesture, prompting him to look outside of his door and see Nabooru for himself: drunk, wobbling, and unraveling.  
“Nabooru, come inside. I need to discuss some plans with you,” he said, cautious of his tone while the servant was in earshot. Nabooru shot the woman a nervous glance, but she was ignored, and so her feet brought her to Ganondorf’s door. He yanked her inside and shut it.  
“Are you trying to embarrass me, Nabooru?” he hissed. Nabooru knew she was being scolded, but all she could focus on was the savory scent that filled his quarters. Her eyes wandered, trying to find its source, and quickly found the platter on his large wooden desk, the scripts of ancient Hyrulean history still spewed about it.  
“I gave you two weeks to yourself for your wrist to heal and for you to rest up before my plan goes into action, and what to you do with it? You drink yourself stupid and stumble around my palace like a fool. You’ve made it clear to me that you rely on the work I give you to keep you straight, and I made the mistake of thinking you could handle some time off. Well, I can promise you that I’ll keep you busy, starting in the morning. You won’t be able to find the time for the slightest taste of alcohol.”  
“I was sober,” she tried explaining. “The Guild made me drink.”   
“They ‘made’ you? Is that right, Nabooru? Did they make you drink, or did they simply present you with an opportunity that you seized upon?”  
Nabooru’s throat started to tighten. “They wouldn’t let me leave.”  
“Leave where?”  
“Their dorm,” she choked, almost a whisper.  
“They have an important task tomorrow that they need to prepare for. What were you doing there?” His accusatory tone set Nabooru further on edge, her anxiety spiking with her drunkenness, and she lost her ability to speak.  
She couldn’t remember why she went to the Guild. She shook her head.  
“Answer me, pet. Why were you there? Unless the answer is that you were out looking for booze, which I allow them to have because I know that they can control themselves. Did they ‘make’ you drink what you came looking for?”  
“No,” was all she said.  
“They didn’t make you?”  
“I didn’t know they had alcohol.”  
“But you found it anyway, and couldn’t help yourself.”  
“No,” she said again. Why did she go there, to the people she hated most in the world?  
“You must start taking responsibility for your own actions, pet. You’re far too old for these juvenile excuses.” Ganondorf’s anger slowly subsided as he began to strategize a solution. “As soon as I send my Guild off tomorrow, you will be under my supervision around the clock. Clearly, I’ve been to lax on your training exercises, so we’ll have to pick that up again. I’m going to need you in peak condition for the days to come. Take tonight to pack up your home; I don’t see you going back there for some time.”  
Suddenly, the memory hit her so hard, Nabooru had to take a sharp breath. The reason she went to the Guild, the reason she tried to out-drink them to leave, the reason she wouldn’t go home afterward:  
“Raewyn.”  
Ganondorf frowned. “No, you won’t be seeing her much. Your little relationship with her has led you to drink, and I can’t jeopardize your health. You’ll have to forgo your carnal pleasures until you’re mature enough to handle it.”  
The room spun, but Nabooru was able to stumble to the large bed in the center of the room. She sat at the edge, hanging her head, and bit her lip to force the tears welling up to go back in.  
“I love her,” she spoke, her voice shaking.  
Ganondorf wasn’t prone to laughter, but the low growl that emanated from his chest could only be interpreted as such.  
“Love? You aren’t capable of love. How can you claim to love someone if you have such a strong alcohol dependence? How can you love when you’ve taken so many lives? Pet, how could you even know what love is if nobody has ever loved you?”  
Nabooru shook her head, taking his words in and wanting so badly to refute them, but her own words caught in her throat, creating only a weak, whimpering sound. She could force the words if she wanted to, but her energy was focused on sitting upright and not giving in to the tears behind her eyes. She knew Raewyn loved her, and she didn’t need to prove it to Ganondorf.  
“Please don’t hurt her,” she said instead. “Please. I’ll do whatever you want.”  
Ganondorf pinched the bridge of his nose, agitated at his agent’s obsession with the doctor, but flattered at her debilitating fear of him. “She’s a distraction to you, and I suspect she’s the reason you drink as well. Alas, I have no plans to cause her any harm. Do you truly think me a monster?”  
He didn’t understand. Ganondorf thought he was making a blanket promise, but Nabooru knew that opinion would change come morning, when his Guild was gone and the resistance was at his door, angry and unwavering in their demands. She was trying to ensure Raewyn’s safety, especially if she was going to need to cut off contact for the coming months. Of course, being under Ganondorf’s watchful eye without cease would be unbearable, but knowing Raewyn was safe would give her the hope to push through until, eventually, she would be granted her freedom again.  
If only Raewyn wasn’t so intent on bringing about her own demise.  
Nabooru’s thoughts moved slowly, her drunken mind mulling over the words her brain formed without her consent. This promise of Raewyn’s safety was empty. Once he saw her leading the charge, Ganondorf wouldn’t hesitate to put an end to her, both as punishment for Nabooru and as an intimidation tactic to dispel the rest of the rebellion. The message would be sent, but at too great a cost. Nabooru couldn’t – wouldn’t – live with herself if she could have done something to stop it.  
The hours ticked away, and Raewyn was nowhere to be found. There was no running away, there was no hiding. The only thing left was the truth.  
Nabooru brought her heavy head upward to meet Ganondorf’s eyes. She croaked, “I have to tell you something.”


	9. Negotiations with Evil

The plans for the rebellion spilled out of her lips faster than the alcohol had poured in them. Raewyn had organized the Gerudo under the premise of dethroning Ganondorf, using Nabooru for intel and trying to thwart his plans for another war. She was careful to avoid mentioning Aveil, the Guild defector, instead taking the blame herself for communicating the Guild’s absence the coming morning. She told him the plan for the resistance to confront him with his Guild gone, in just a few hours, how they were likely preparing now. Above all, Nabooru told him how she tried to stop them, to talk them out of it, how she tried to find Raewyn but she was nowhere to be found, and she was so, so sorry.  


She didn’t know at what point she had allowed herself to finally cry, but as she professed her apologies, she tasted the tears streaming down her face. “I tried and I couldn’t stop them, I’m sorry,” she sobbed. Her cries echoed throughout Ganondorf’s chambers, the king himself completely silent as she confessed her shortcomings. He showed no emotion, even as he learned his plans were about to be used against him, but he listened intently, taking in every piece of information she spoke.  


He left her to weep to herself, hunched over on his bed, gripping the sheets with white knuckles and trembling shoulders. She looked pathetic, he thought as he took her in. This was a tool he had molded from a young age, had conditioned against the worst the world had to offer her, had created to be efficient and clever and deadly. And yet, here she sat, not even bold enough to overthrow her own master without cowering before him and spoiling it all.  


Ganondorf stood with his arms crossed, considering his broken agent and contemplating his next move, both with her and the Guild. The Guild’s excursion to Hyrule proper tomorrow would have to be postponed, of course – an irritating but necessary decision. As for Nabooru, it seemed his idea to chaperone her came too late. He considered (briefly) whether his investment had passed its usefulness, whether it would be more pertinent to start anew, or pour his resources into the Guild. No, he thought with a furrow of his brow. He had spent a tireless decade on Nabooru, and here was a simple lapse. He had been too soft on her, allowing her to crumble, but he could easily rebuild her with enough discipline.  
Yes, he concluded, discipline would rebuild his agent. And that needed to start immediately.  


“Enough, Nabooru,” he commanded with enough edge that Nabooru ceased her crying before he had even spoken her name. “Stand up.”  


She rose from his bed immediately and dared to look into his eyes, her own puffy and red with desperation. She sensed his firmness, knowing his patience had run thin with her little outburst, and tried to steady her trembles, albeit with little success. The truth was out, and the rebellion’s ambush was ruined, but in return, Nabooru hoped that she would have a say in the terms for surrender. Namely, she could negotiate for Raewyn’s life.  


But Ganondorf was in no mood for negotiations. As soon as Nabooru was on her feet, he grabbed her by her throat and pinned her against the wall. He leaned in close, his height ever more imposing as he loomed over her, and snarled. They locked eyes, Ganondorf’s fierce and unforgiving, and Nabooru’s wide and afraid.  


“I told you to dispel the rebellion, not join it. You’ve come to me with your failure far too late, and now you’ve forced me to take extreme measures to make up for it.”  


“It’s not too late,” she squeaked from her limited breath. “You don’t have to hurt them. Please.”  


Ganondorf tightened his grip on her throat. “You don’t get to play both sides of this, Nabooru. You chose to scheme against me, after I’ve given you everything you could’ve asked for. You came to me a motherless brat and I spent my resources to make you something, and this is how you repay me? With treason?”  


“Protecting… them…” Nabooru managed to choke.  


“I gave you your chance to solve this. You’ve failed. Now I have to go clean up the mess I foolishly left you in charge of.” Ganondorf slammed her against the wall again, banging her head hard against the surface. “I have to abandon the plans I made, I have to call of my contacts, I have to tell the Guild – who I’ve prepared for this moment – that their mission is on indefinite hold. And I have to do all of this because you wanted to protect traitors who want me dead!”  


“Sorry,” she slurred, her throbbing head and lack of oxygen pulling her toward a drowsy darkness. Her vision constricted quickly, inviting the blackness in further, and she almost welcomed the unconsciousness that would surely follow. But adrenaline kept her awake, however scarcely, enough to plead for a mercy she knew didn’t exist in her king.  


“You don’t know what sorry is, pet,” Ganondorf barked, his voice so loud that it startled Nabooru into more violent tremors. “When I take down this mutiny – and believe me, I will – I will make sure to tell them who sent me, who ruined their plans, as I make examples out of each and every one of them.”  


“No,” she begged. Tears began streaming down her face again, catching on Ganondorf’s hand as they dripped off her chin.  


“You’ve brought this on yourself. They’re going to die, Nabooru, all of them, except for your little sweetheart. I’m going to lock her up and I’m going to let you torture her, let you show her that you are only ever loyal to me.”  


“I won’t.”  


“You will.” His fury was interjected with an evil, self-satisfied laugh. “My mothers can be very persuasive, pet. You won’t have a choice in the matter, but all she’ll see is you, hurting her and making her wish she was dead. Maybe, if you’re a good little pet, I’ll let you end her misery.”  


Nabooru lost control of her body, still conscious but going limp in Ganondorf’s grasp. She soiled herself as the volume of liquor caught up with her and she lost muscular control. But the fear that coursed through her veins kept her trembling, kept her eyes glued to her king’s, horrified at the threat that she knew to be real. His mothers were terrible, powerful witches. Nabooru had seen what they’d been able to do to Sheikah: dismemberment, reanimation, even mind-control to a limited extent. She’d only had to come in contact with them at the beginning of her time with Ganondorf, and had actively avoided them since.  


She still sobbed, her vision going ever darker, frightened and remorseful and shaking against Ganondorf’s hard body. But she was able to speak, however softly. “I hate you.”  


Ganondorf grimaced as the urine soaked through her pants. “But you fear me more,” he growled. Then, still squeezing her throat, he threw her back on the bed. It was dizzying for Nabooru, the combination of being thrown on her back and the rush of oxygen back into her body. Her ears rang and her head spun, more than it usually did with just alcohol. Her vision was coming back slowly, but what she could see of the ceiling of Ganondorf’s chambers was spinning. She felt like she could have fallen out of her own body had it not been for the sudden rush of cold on her legs. It took a few seconds for Nabooru to realize that her pants had been taken off, exposing her wet legs to the air, and turning her trembles into shivers.  


She thought he would be drying her off. She thought he would be giving her a new pair of pants, and continuing his threats. But the hand took its place back at her throat, holding her, pinning her. It didn’t occur to her what would be happening until she was already penetrated.


End file.
